


The Adventure

by Sed



Series: Everything Turned Out Okay [3]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Betrayal, Tron: Evolution, Tron: Legacy (2010), Tron: Uprising
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Het and Slash, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sed/pseuds/Sed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron and Clu are asked to investigate a problem with the Sea of Simulation. Radia sends Quorra to tag along, and the three programs have a grand adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> **Apologies for this copying itself twice in the text field. I'm not sure if it was me double tapping the paste key or a glitch. It's fixed now.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Temporary title, it might change.
> 
> There are perspective shifts in this. All three characters get at least one chance to run the narrative, so keep that in mind.
> 
> This is a transitional period for Clu, between the building of the Grid and its heyday, I guess you could call it. He isn't quite the most confident admin just yet.

“I’ve always liked it up here,” Tron said as he leaned forward. “It’s quiet.”  
  
With his mouth pressed to the back of Clu’s neck, he could feel the other program’s shoulders heaving and shaking with each labored breath. Tron dipped his head to run his lips over the edge of Clu’s identity disc, smiling when his efforts drew another powerful shudder. Curling his smirk into a smile, he tightened the hand he had wrapped around Clu’s cock, pumping harder as he licked the pale curve of light at the center of the disc—its main circuit. The touch made Clu buck into his hand and fall forward, palms flat on the low wall before them.  
  
“Tron,” he whimpered, “I _can’t_.”  
  
“You can. Just relax and enjoy the view.” Tron spoke against the surface of the disc, making sure to keep contact with it, knowing Clu could feel every motion, sense every warm puff of air. With his free hand he ran a finger along the underside, his gloves hissing over the material between the disc and its port. Clu made a strained sound, curling his fingers against the black wall, gasping in each breath as though someone had wrapped a hand around his throat. He wouldn’t have it in him to take much more torment. Showing mercy, Tron swept a finger over the head of his cock just as he licked the disc’s circuit one more time, and Clu lost all control. He cried out as he came, his circuits flickering and threatening a soft overload, flaring brightly before slowly fading back to a soft white.  
  
Tron held him for a moment, keeping his lips still against the disc. He moved only when Clu nudged him away, stepping back just enough to give him room. “Alright?” he asked. He stepped to the side and leaned down to get a better look.  
  
Clu shook his head. He was still hunched over the wall, but his body had stopped shaking, at least. He swallowed hard and stood up straight, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m fine.”  
  
“You recovered quickly this time.”  
  
Clu shot him a sidelong glance packed full of everything he wasn’t yet capable of putting to words. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he snapped in reply.  
  
They played the game every time, testing one another, pushing boundaries and teasing just for the sake of it. Tron had a clever reply queued and ready to shoot back when the first opportunity presented itself, but a quick look from Clu stopped him; a look he had seen countless times before, when an admin-level call came through the system.  
  
“It’s Radia,” Clu said, making no effort to hide his disdain for the Iso leader. “Apparently it’s _important_.”  
  
“Well, she wouldn’t have contacted you this way if it _wasn’t_ important.” With Flynn doing his best to calm tensions between the Isos and the basics, there weren’t many other reasons for Radia to seek the system administrator. Tron still found himself playing peacemaker between the two leaders from time to time, though. He turned toward the door they had used to access the roof of the facility, pausing to let Clu fall in step beside him. “She picked a good time to call,” he added.  
  
Clu shook his head. “I stalled access requests while we were… busy.”  
  
“Sentimental,” Tron said, slightly surprised by the uncharacteristic attention to intimacy. It was hard enough to draw Clu away from his charts and tables—Tron never expected him to assign so much priority to their time together.  
  
“Necessary,” Clu corrected. “I can’t enjoy myself with several million voices whispering in my ear.”  
  
Tron stopped and grabbed Clu’s shoulder, turning him as he leaned in close. “We’ll see about that next time,” he said, before continuing to the door and leaving Clu standing speechless on the rooftop.  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
“Radia,” Clu called as they entered the Nexus. “What can I do for you?”  
  
“Thank you for coming, Clu. And Tron.” Radia turned to acknowledge Tron’s presence with a smile. “I apologize if I interrupted your work,” she said, turning back to Clu.  
  
Clu ignored her unspoken criticism and pushed forward, eager to get to the point. At least she had no way of knowing _why_ he had made himself unavailable. That he knew of. “You said it was important?”  
  
“Yes. I will be brief, as I believe we have very little time to act, if there is any time at all. Something is wrong with the Sea of Simulation. Though I don’t know what, exactly.” As she spoke, Radia walked the perimeter of the inset design below their feet, circling the other two programs.  
  
Tron didn’t seem quite ready to believe her. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot, watching her as she made her way around his side. “How can you tell?”  
  
“How can you tell that the Grid is under threat, Tron? The sea is part of us.”  
  
“And the number of new Isos emerging has dropped dramatically,” Jalen added, appearing from an arched doorway on the far side of the room. “In just four cycles there has been an eighty-one percent decrease. That’s rather alarming. As of the last quarter-cycle alone the number has dropped to nearly zero.”  
  
Tron frowned, stepping aside so Jalen could join them. “You could have just told us that,” he said. “But isn’t this something Flynn should investigate? He can tell more than we can. If there isn’t an immediate danger—”  
  
“What threatens the Isos _is_ an immediate danger,” Radia interrupted, sounding unusually agitated. She continued pacing, her crystalline adornments swaying with each step.  
  
Jalen spread his hands in a soothing gesture, undoubtedly meant more for Radia than Tron at that point. “Our concern is haste. Flynn told us he intends to return within the cycle, but we may not have that much time. This is a matter of system integrity; what affects the Isos affects the basics. If you could investigate…”  
  
Clu watched the three of them with detached interest. The Isos were a growing burden on the system, and he himself had entertained hypothetical scenarios to stem their emergence. Flynn’s efforts to erode his original directive with more and more conflicting data had dulled his irritation, but done very little to change his opinion of them—they were an aberration, but one he could tolerate as long as their existence didn’t directly threaten the basics, or the Grid itself. No one said he had to like it, though. “I’ll go,” he said suddenly, interrupting the discussion. Radia, Tron, and Jalen all turned, as though they had forgotten he was even there. “I am the system administrator, after all. Jalen is right; if something is wrong, it affects all of us.” It would also be the only way to calm Radia, and allow Clu to shift his focus back to the Grid, where it belonged.  
  
“Then I’m coming with you.” Tron, having apparently set aside his concerns, switched into responsible system monitor mode. Clu had his doubts about how long _that_ would last. “We’ll take a light runner.”  
  
“Forgive me,” Radia said, cutting them off once more. “I would ask that you allow an Iso to accompany you.” When Clu and Tron didn’t acquiesce immediately, she continued. “We are all in agreement that this is an issue which stands to impact both Isos and basics, I believe the additional perspective will be of great benefit to your efforts.”  
  
Tron seemed bothered by the idea of a third wheel tagging along, and Clu couldn’t exactly blame him; it would be dangerous beyond the city limits. The deeper system was not for the inexperienced. Watching their own backs would be hard enough, but letting someone else tag along would slow them down. The burden could prove fatal.  
  
Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Radia turned to Clu and smiled. He hated that smile. He hated even more that she always seemed to know _exactly_ what he was thinking. “I understand you may be apprehensive, but the individual I have in mind should complement you both; she will not be a burden.”  
  
That was as good as demanding, in Clu’s opinion. He nodded and turned to leave. “Have her meet us at the bridge in beta sector. Soon.”  
  
“She can accompany you now,” Jalen replied.  
  
Clu turned back to find a small program standing where Jalen had appeared earlier. He couldn’t tell what she was, which didn’t surprise him as she was an Iso, and therefore didn’t actually _exist_ to his senses. She didn’t look like much, though, and definitely not a soldier. He had his doubts she could handle what they might encounter beyond the city grid. His quick and unflattering appraisal must have been obvious, because the girl stood up straight, squaring her shoulders and staring right back. It was a mildly encouraging reaction.  
  
“How many Isos do you have back there?” Tron asked. “What’s your name, program?”  
  
“Quorra,” the girl responded.  
  
“Have you ever been in a fight, Quorra?”  
  
She hesitated for a moment, looking from Radia and Jalen, then back to Tron before responding. “Not in the games, but I have trained for combat.” She glanced at Clu, giving him the same hard stare as before.  
  
Clu caught the not-so-subtle dig, but chose to ignore it. He wasn’t about to debate administrative decrees in the middle of Arjia. He had his reasons, and it wasn’t required of him to explain any of them. Flynn preached patience—always _patience_ —and Clu found himself bombarded with opportunities to test his creator’s lengthy platitudes at every turn. So far the only benefits seemed to be targeted outward. “Let’s go,” he said, breaking eye contact with Quorra.  
  
He wondered, as they exited the Nexus, when patience was supposed to pay off for him.  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
“We’ll have to walk part of the way,” Tron called over his shoulder to Quorra. His voice barely carried over the growl of the tires as they rolled through the rough landscape. “I hope you’re up to it. The terrain by the shore makes it almost impossible to drive safely.”  
  
“When have you ever driven safely?” Clu asked. He caught a return smirk from Tron out of the corner of his eye.  
  
They were in a modified light runner, expanded to carry twice as many passengers as the standard all-terrain craft, and armored against the unforgiving environment. The vehicle had been Flynn’s idea, built by one of the older programs after they realized during their first trip beyond the city limits just how difficult and dangerous it would be to make any progress on foot. In those days Flynn was constantly tinkering with the system, making adjustments that drew gridbugs like a bright beacon. They rarely ventured far from the city anymore, but Shaddox and Flynn had insisted on storing the many vehicles they used during that time, claiming they might come in handy at some future date. Clu knew they were meant to be locked away, kept for Flynn’s private use, but Tron always seemed to have access to whatever vehicles he needed—or just wanted. For once it was a benefit, rather than a dangerous liability.  
  
Quorra leaned forward, poking her head between the two front seats. Clu did his best not to lean away, but her position put their faces uncomfortably close. “Do you know where the emergence occurs?” she asked Tron. “I can show you if you don’t.”  
  
Clu was the one to answer. “I know where it is,” he said, and then again, loud enough for her to hear. He had been there with Flynn. Going down the line from the unfinished city to the shore, inspecting Iso after Iso, listening to his creator marvel at their perfect geometry, their spectacular and unimaginable manifestation. It was difficult to forget the moment he realized Flynn’s favor had shifted forever.  
  
He sullenly tapped out a set of coordinates on the dashboard interface, giving Tron a map to follow. At a break in the road Tron caught the path and turned the wheel sharply, drifting around a large rock formation and jerking Clu out of his descent into self pity. Quorra was knocked sideways into Clu’s seat, and he reached back to grab her shoulder and stop her from tumbling around like a loose bit.  
  
“Maybe I should have let you drive,” Tron said. He watched as Clu helped to secure Quorra before turning back to the path—almost missing a turn that would keep them from careening off a sheer drop, straight into a chasm.  
  
Clu shot him an angry glare. “It might have been safer.”  
  
“But a lot less interesting.”  
  
It didn’t take long to reach their destination; a break in the jagged shoreline that sloped gently into the sea, where the digital waves lapped at the rock and shimmered under the glow of countless uniform lights in the sky. The first time Clu had been there he was with his creator, and Tron was still just a flash of memory, inherited from Flynn and lacking the context to mean more than most of the jumbled collection of sights and feelings. There were no Isos then. No programs.  
  
Quorra was the first to exit the light runner. She jumped over the side and landed in a crouch, standing slowly as she surveyed the scene. True to what Radia had claimed, there were no Isos to be found. There was a time Clu could recall when the trail of emerging Isos stretched almost halfway to the city. The first wave nearly made it there. Seeing it so desolate, so absolutely devoid of anything, even he had to admit it felt wrong. With the exception of the Isos, few things ever happened spontaneously within the system; it was no less of a shock to see their growing numbers halted without any indication _why_.  
  
“There’s no one here,” Quorra said, turning around to check for any signs of life. “There should be _someone_.”  
  
Tron lifted the door and jumped out, coming around the front of the light runner to join her. “Are you sure it’s not just time?” he asked.  
  
Quorra shook her head. “No, it’s the sea. It has to be.” She started walking, heading for the shoreline and moving along its length, scanning back and forth as she went. Clu turned to watch until she disappeared behind a large, wide rock.  
  
“Should we…” he said, indicating the path Quorra had taken.  
  
Tron gave a resigned shrug and followed her, leaving Clu sitting alone in the light runner.  
  
He sat there for a while, wondering if maybe Radia had a point; that an Iso would have some sort of innate coding, a skill that allowed them to read the chaotic swirl of broken data that comprised the sea. They claimed greater adaptability, after all. Or, more likely, it was just a way for the Iso leader to force her will, and keep tabs on just how much effort they were putting into their investigation. He set a foot on the center dashboard and leaned into the corner between his own seat and the door. There was nothing he could tell from looking at the sea or the boulders and slabs around it that would tell him anything more than a quick glance already had; there were no more Isos emerging from whatever depths spawned them. Tron and Quorra could go explore until they were satisfied, no doubt leaping nimbly over everything in their path until Tron inevitably turned the journey into a competition. Clu didn’t have to guess how long that would take, or who would win, and then someone would end up needing help. A hand would be offered, or maybe they would both wind up in a pile of limbs and breathless humor. And Tron…  
  
He would find some way to turn the situation in his favor. He always did.  
  
Clu threw himself forward in the seat and jumped over the opposite door, barely stopping to gain surer footing before tearing through the gravel and making his way along the shore after the others. Past the point where the terrain sloped into the water, the shoreline was littered with enormous boulders, most dangerously uneven and too tall to simply climb over. Clu was powerful, but he wasn’t exactly _agile_. Hundreds of cycles of sparring with Tron had proven that. He threw himself onto the closest boulder and tried to pull himself up, only succeeding through unrealistic determination, along with a great deal of unflattering grunts and some curses that Flynn had never fully explained to him.  
  
Up ahead he could see the twin glow cast by Quorra and Tron as they made their way through the rocks with apparent ease. Quorra was moving like she had been made for the task; even Tron seemed to be having trouble keeping pace with the lithe little program.  
  
“This…” Clu growled, pulling himself up onto the next rock. “This is why you’re not allowed in the games!”  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
Quorra caught herself and turned before her own momentum could carry her over the edge of the boulder. From the corner of her eye she saw Tron bend over and steady himself with one hand before vaulting across the gap between two flat rocks, each angled so that he had to keep moving before he, too, ended up taking a fall. It put him on a crash course with Quorra, and she braced herself for the impact. Instead, he grabbed her and turned them both in a spin. His other foot dragged over the rough surface of the boulder, and they came to a stop halfway through the turn.  
  
“That was almost fun,” he said.  
  
Quorra nodded, instantly aware of every point where his circuits touched hers. Earlier she might have admitted to a bit of apprehension when she entered the Nexus to find both the administrator and the Grid’s unquestioned hero standing there, staring at her, but Tron turned out to be much more than the rumors and stories had led her to believe. He was brash, and competitive in a way that she found intriguing. Almost immediately their exploration of the shoreline had turned into a challenge of dexterity, and when she proved herself there he only acknowledged it with a nod. She had been a little annoyed by that, at the time. Of course, standing atop a boulder with his arms around her, _annoyance_ was the last thing on her mind.  
  
“I think I prefer my fun without the risk of deresolution,” she answered, trying to take her own mind off the impromptu embrace.  
  
Tron looked down over the side of the boulder and shook his head. “It’s not that far, and the ground is mostly clear. I hope you’re not that delicate.”  
  
Quorra narrowed her eyes; he was baiting her. “I was thinking of you,” she returned with a grin.  
  
That made him laugh, and he let go, putting a foot back to bridge the space between their perch and another rock behind them. “Do you need a hand?” he asked.  
  
“I can make it on my own, but I’ll hold yours if you’re unsure.”  
  
Another approving nod. “I like you, Quorra.”  
  
When he had cleared the way and continued on to the next rock, Quorra jumped across behind him. The pause gave her more room to pick up speed. She knew she could move much faster without having to follow Tron’s lead, but she wasn’t ready to push the friendly rivalry that far. Not yet. He wanted to be in front, and his efforts to retake the position had made that clear. “At least you do,” she said, coming to a shaky stop when the next boulder shifted under her weight. “I have a feeling Clu would prefer it if I hadn’t come along.”  
  
“He doesn’t like change.”  
  
Quorra shot a glance at Tron’s back to gauge his position before making her next move. “It’s only one time,” she said. She wasn’t planning to become a permanent fixture in the management structure of the Grid. She wasn’t even sure why Radia had asked _her_ , instead of Jalen. He was more than capable. If Clu hadn’t banned Isos from the games, he might have even had a chance to prove it.  
  
“No,” Tron corrected. “What you are—an Iso—represents a shift in everything he was programmed to comprehend. It’s something Flynn has worked hard to control.”  
  
“Then why won’t Clu let the Isos participate in the games? Why does he treat Radia like he can’t stand to be around her?”  
  
“Because he can’t stand to be around her.” Tron laughed and stopped himself, turning to regard Quorra with a condescending half-smile. “Two powerful programs, both leaders. You’re surprised they don’t get along?”  
  
She held up a hand, pointing one finger at Tron. “Radia doesn’t dislike Clu. I’ve seen how she speaks to him.”  
  
“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” He paused. “ _Jalen_ likes Clu. Of course, Clu is indifferent to him in return. But he’s indifferent to most programs, as long as they don’t stand in the way of his directive, or cause problems. In fact, I’d say indifference and bitter acceptance are the best you can expect. Unless…”  
  
“Unless what?”  
  
Quorra couldn’t be sure, but she thought Tron winked at her before he replied. “Nothing you have to worry about. I know him well enough to be sure of that.”  
  
“What?”  
  
He waved her over before turning back to the path they had lined up for themselves. “Come on, the more time we spend out here, the more dangerous it’s going to get. You’re quick, I’ll give you that, but I still have my doubts until I see you fight.”  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
They were standing together. Close. He could see it, and he didn’t even have to zoom to be sure. That was fortunate in its own way, as extending his vision even for a moment caused him incredible pain. Flynn called it a _headache_. It seemed like an inconvenience that should have been rectified immediately after it was discovered. The more flaws Clu found in his composition, the more he was sure his creator had purposely hobbled him, either for his own sick amusement or just because he had been too lazy to make changes. Sadly, they were both strong possibilities.  
  
Making his way across the rocky terrain was getting easier with each jump, though he still wasn’t moving very fast. Not enough to catch up, and he couldn’t begin to estimate how long they might continue before energy consumption and common sense told them to turn around and head back to the light runner. Eventually their presence in the unstructured areas of the system would draw attention, and it wouldn’t stop without excessive force, which they didn’t have on their own. As he slid down the side of a boulder, following the faint, and normally invisible path set down for him by Tron’s tracking function, Clu wondered just what the hell _he_ was doing out on his own, so far from the safety of the vehicle or the protection of the others. He wasn’t going to fare any better than they were if a swarm of gridbugs came his way.  
  
The trail was growing stronger, and as the landscape gently sloped down into a shallow valley, Clu started to feel more and more certain that they had stopped up ahead. He left the path and scrambled up the side of a tall rock formation. It was precarious, but from the top he could see over the edge of the hill and down to where the line ended at Tron’s feet, confirming his hypothesis. He could also see what had made them stop. A stream—no, a _river_ of energy flowed across the barren landscape, cutting through a tear in the bedrock like a glowing disc scar. It rushed from an unknown spring in such a torrent that the waters had turned opaque, frothing and churning against the confines of the hard data as they made their way to the shore. Where the energy met the sea the surface of the waves boiled, sending puffs of steam into the air.  
  
Clu immediately started running scenarios that could result in an open energy leak, but nothing explained the magnitude, or the momentum. He climbed back down and began making his way to where Tron and Quorra were standing beside the riverbank. Quorra was at the edge, kneeling by the churning waters. Tron stood further back with his arms crossed. “It seems we found the problem,” he said as Clu finally caught up. “Radia won’t be happy to hear about this.”  
  
“We can’t just leave it,” Quorra said. She turned to look up at Tron. “It’s poisoning the sea.”  
  
Poisoning was perhaps not the most accurate description Clu could think of, but he had nothing in his memory to describe the situation any better than she had. Flynn had said the sea maintained its own delicate balance—that it regulated itself somehow, though he couldn’t explain his theory further without drawing from objects and events he had experienced in the user world. He believed the conditions within the sea, and its raw, infinite, and unreadable data were what had created the Isos. It made sense, then, that dramatically altering that balance with an overabundance of energy would throw off whatever factors contributed to their formation. Tainting the process. It was _too much of a good thing_ , as Flynn would have said.  
  
“Well, there’s nothing we can do to stop it,” Tron replied. “Not without damming the flow somehow, and I don’t know of any way to do that. Not for a leak this large.”  
  
Perhaps in desperation, Quorra looked to Clu. “There has to be a way.”  
  
He was starting to see why Radia had sent her, instead of Jalen. “We can’t stop it,” he said, trying to let her down gently—though he wasn’t sure _why_. “Tron is right.”  
  
“We’ll come back with Flynn,” Tron added. He reached down to offer Quorra a hand. “Come on.”  
  
She didn’t take it. Instead she continued staring at the river, and for a moment Clu thought she might tip forward and fall in. He stepped closer, ready to grab her if she did anything stupid. Tron seemed to have the same idea. “Turn it,” she said suddenly.  
  
Clu stopped and looked at the rushing torrent. “What?”  
  
“Direct it somewhere else. We passed a large chasm earlier. We can change the flow and use that to contain the energy until it can be stopped. It might be too late to save the sea, but we can keep it from getting worse.” She stood and looked at Clu, clearly determined, and oddly reminiscent of Flynn when he had an idea that no reason or logic could shake. Normally he would have found it tiring; this time he had to admit a grudging respect for her resourcefulness and determination. There was only one problem.  
  
“I still can’t code in the Outlands. Only Flynn can do that,” he reminded her. He couldn’t so much as move a rock without his user. Flynn hadn’t planned that—it was just an unfortunate side effect of his synchronization with the Grid. “We’ll have to carve a path some other way.”  
  
On cue, Tron was back in the game. “I have some explosives in the light runner.”  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
Clu held up a wire frame display of the surrounding area, having taken the time to correct the existing topographical data he already had stored in his memory. He checked twice to be sure there was nothing to indicate the river’s existence prior to bursting through the bedrock, before running a quick update that showed the depth of the river was slightly greater than they had assumed. The path they had plotted covered the shortest possible distance between the chasm and the first rise in terrain elevation along the river’s course. Clu and Quorra had done most of the mapping, with Tron offering advice on where to set the charges to maximize their impact. Simply setting grenades wouldn’t do it, he explained. They would need to use the guns mounted on the light runner, as well as a set of wall-mounting bombs he just _happened_ to have on him.  
  
“You get to drive the light runner,” Tron said to Quorra. “Follow me, I’ll show you what to do.”  
  
He led her over to the vehicle with a hand set gently to the small of her back; Clu watched, circuits burning with the knowledge that Tron was aware he could see every little touch. When Quorra leaned over to look at the weapon console Tron was right behind her, standing so his thigh pressed against her ass just light enough that she might not notice—though it was more likely she did, and she was just too polite to say anything. Clu knew how that felt. He had made plenty of his own mistakes before he learned how Tron could get. A quick look and a wink from Tron said all he needed to know about the other side of the matter.  
  
Degenerate.  
  
“The second button controls the front-mounted canons; you’ll press that when I tell you. Understand?” He put a hand on Quorra’s waist and left it there a little too long. She shot him a look and he backed off, grinning like a fool and using the silence as an excuse to make another questionable comment. “It’s a big, heavy vehicle. Have you ever had your hands on something like this?”  
  
Quorra looked him over with a smile. “I haven’t, but I’m sure it isn’t very hard.”  
  
Clu couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that. He covered it up with a fake cough and continued calculating the intervals between where every bomb and grenade cluster would have to be set. He based his math on terrain elevation and comparative depth, indicating each on the map and marking them sequentially for Quorra to follow—though it was nearly a straight line, and he would be with her the whole way. He told himself it was just to be thorough. He had set aside most of his doubts that she was competent; if she could handle Tron, she probably deserved more credit than he had originally given her.  
  
“This is ready,” he said, copying and then re-copying the file. He snapped the master shut and pushed himself up from where he had been sitting on the ground. Tron undocked his disc and handed it over for Clu to share the file, keeping his hand out until it was returned. When it came time to share with Quorra, she simply turned her back to him. Clu paused, unsure whether or not she meant for him to take the disc, or copy the file through her interface.  
  
“Go ahead,” she said. “Take it.”  
  
He couldn’t decide whether to feel angered by her audacity, or confused that she would trust him to undock her disc and then put it back safely. He reached up and gingerly plucked the disc from its port, keying in the file path quickly before sliding it back into place and locking it with a turn. Quorra nodded over her shoulder. “Got it,” she said.  
  
Clu took a step back and nodded in return. “Let’s get this done, then.” They would draw attention quickly, and he was anxious to complete as much of the process as possible before things took a turn for the worse—and they almost certainly would.  
  
“Start it up,” Tron said. He picked up the first set of explosives and strapped them onto his suit, jogging over to the other side of the light runner.  
  
The guns made quick work of the crystalline bedrock, leaving a hole that Tron then packed full of explosives. They moved back and detonated the first set, and the resulting explosion created a rut that would more than adequately guide the end of the river into the chasm. As Quorra turned the vehicle and prepared to start carving out the rest of the path to the river, Clu looked over the sheer drop into the dark void below. The scans Flynn had made when he first mapped the system environment only covered the surface, barely penetrating more than a few meters down. There was no way to know how far the chasm descended, or what might be down there, short of going on foot.  
  
He could guess, though.  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
Quorra loosened her grip on the wheel and flexed her fingers. They were a little over halfway to the river, and already facing a devastating problem; the previous detonation had failed to clear as much of the rock as planned, and they didn’t have spare grenades or bombs to try again. Quorra put the light runner in reverse and aimed the guns at the end of the channel. “Should I?” she asked.  
  
“I think it’s the only option,” Clu replied. “Go for it.”  
  
It was more fun than she imagined to simply let loose and unload on a target. She cleared just a bit more than necessary, then quickly released the trigger; they only had so much power in the light runner, and if the dire warnings Tron and Clu kept tossing her way were any indication of things to come, they would need it all. She moved on to the next detonation point, signaling Tron to lay another set of explosives once she had reached an adequate depth with the guns.  
  
“You’re doing well,” Clu said. Quorra nearly squeezed the trigger in shock, whipping her head to the side to stare at the administrator as he walked beside the vehicle. “I underestimated you.”  
  
It was a backhanded compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. Still… “I’m the one in the light runner, so I’m not sure you aren’t still underestimating me.”  
  
“With any luck, we won’t ever find out if that’s true.”  
  
She had to agree with that. Even if it meant she would never get a chance to prove them wrong, avoiding trouble was preferable to risking death. Before she could share that opinion with Clu, however, a strange sound caught her attention. It could have easily been mistaken for someone clicking a light stick in place, or tapping on the side of the light runner. In fact, it _was_ on the side of the light runner.  
  
“Look out!” Tron was too far ahead to intervene, but he pointed over Quorra’s head, at the top of the light runner. She looked up to see a set of long, pointed limbs clutching the edge of the hood. From the corner of her eye came more movement, and a small form scurried over the side of the passenger door, heading her way.  
  
Clu was on them in a flash, his disc tearing through the first gridbug in a blur of light and the pealing screech of a violent deresolution. He dispatched the second one just before it could reach Quorra, leaving him bent over the door, one arm still extended and the two of them nearly face-to-face. He jumped back and looked around for additional threats. “Are you alright?” he asked without looking at her.  
  
For brief moment she almost thought his white circuits looked brighter, but it was hard to tell with her own thrumming in her ears, and the panic of danger setting off one alarm after another. She had never been so close to a gridbug before; seen the devastation they could cause, heard entire sectors crumble in their wake, but never before had one choose _her_ as its target. “I’m fine,” she replied. “I guess we have their attention.”  
  
“I’ll keep them off you.”  
  
Tron rejoined them a moment later. “There will be more,” he warned. “We should hurry up.”  
  
They made it through two more checkpoints before there was another attack. This time the gridbugs went for Clu. He kicked one to the side and derezzed another as it leapt at him from a nearby rock, sweeping a third away with his free arm before taking out the first when it returned for another attempt, and hurling his disc at the remaining two. They seemed almost frantic, and Quorra could see Clu’s chest heaving with the effort of fending them off.  
  
“At least they’re being considerate,” he said breathlessly.  
  
“I guess you could say that. Five on one is hardly fair, though.”  
  
He gave her a quick glance as he turned around to check the back of the light runner. “There could be a lot more. And there will be. Keep moving.”  
  
Quorra motioned Tron to back away and give her room to fire off the next round. She wasn’t even able to pull the trigger before the scuttling of legs on the bottom of the chassis alerted her to an oncoming attack. They poured over the sides of the light runner, and she could barely lift the door before one was on her. It bit into her arm and started tearing at her suit, so fast she almost couldn’t feel the damage. She felt Clu’s hand close around her wrist, and then his disc came down to cut away the attached gridbug as he yanked her from the seat. Tron appeared in the midst of the fray and started clearing the bugs from the other side of the light runner; they were tearing at the door, creating bright white cracks in the body and threatening to derez the whole thing.  
  
“Where are they _coming from?_ ” Quorra shouted over the clamor. She dropped to a crouch and swept her leg to the side to kick at a bug as it prepared to launch itself onto Clu’s back. She brought her disc out and sliced it down the center when it righted itself and turned her way, instead. “What’s drawing them?”  
  
“We’re tampering with the system. It’s like a beacon,” Tron explained.  
  
She pulled her arm back and punched through another one with her disc as Tron came over the top of the light runner, taking out three with the end of a baton. He pulled another stick off his leg and tossed it her way. “Here,” he said. “You’ll probably need it.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Once the last of the bugs were cleared, Quorra quickly hopped back into the light runner, keeping the door up just in case as they pushed through the next two checkpoints. They did their best to speed up the process, but another wave showed up before they could move on to the final segment leading up to the river.  
  
“Once we clear the last part,” Clu shouted over the chaos, “I’ll take the wheel. We have to dam the main stream, and force the flow into the new channel.”  
  
“I can do that,” Quorra replied.  
  
“I’m a better shot.”  
  
Quorra seized the opportunity to give a little back. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” she teased. She turned to find him knee-deep in a pile of gridbugs, all in various states of deresolution, with a few still kicking their legs as their bodies crumbled into glowing sand. He was smiling.  
  
“Could you two try to take this seriously?” Tron spun into the fray, his suit torn in several places. He seemed in his element. “We are kind of fighting for our lives, here.”  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
It took some time to clear the last wave of gridbugs, but eventually they managed to get back to finishing the channel. With the last of the rock cleared, the wild flow of energy split in two, half of it taking the new course and heading for the chasm. They switched places in the light runner, and Quorra took up a defensive position with Tron. There was a large rock formation beside the river, where a slight elevation would encourage the flowing energy to take the path of least resistance and move fully into their channel, instead of forcing its way around interference. Clu checked his math, calculating and recalculating the odds of breaking off enough of the rock to create a sizeable blockage. He was almost certain he could do it. Almost.  
  
Flynn would have told him to stop thinking and shoot.  
  
“Just do it!” Tron shouted. Clu looked over his shoulder to see a host of gridbugs making their way across the ground, coming from the direction of the chasm. A quick estimation put their number at nearly triple the last wave.  
  
He gripped the trigger and started firing. Behind him he could hear the others engaging the gridbugs, discs slicing through their hard bodies one after another, nearly drowning out the sound of the guns and the roar of crumbling rock. One of the oncoming swarm made it past Tron and Quorra’s blockade, leaping onto the front of the light runner. Clu didn’t think; he let go of the trigger long enough to rip his disc from his back and hurl it at the advancing bug. He caught it on the return and leaned forward to replace it on its dock, when a hand stopped him.  
  
“I’ll take that,” Tron said. He had a gridbug in one hand, thrashing about and trying desperately to claw its way free. He pulled his arm back and smashed the creature into the side of the light runner, shattering the bug’s metal shell and sending pieces flying in every direction. “I could use another.”  
  
Clu paused and looked at his disc. He trusted Tron with it—he just wasn’t sure how much. “Don’t damage it,” he said.  
  
Suddenly Quorra’s voice cut through the noise. “Tron!”  
  
Tron grabbed the disc and leapt back into the fray, leaving Clu to continue chipping away at the rock. It wasn’t accomplishing much, and nowhere near enough to make a significant difference in the river’s course. Clu spun calculations and scenarios in rapid succession, coming to the same conclusion through each one; they had made a mistake— _he_ had made a mistake. They should have waited for Flynn. But Quorra was right, the leak had to be stopped. There was no way to tell what other complications might arise from an unchecked imbalance in something that had been a part of the system since its creation. He only wished doing the right thing didn’t mean risking death. Some part of him had to admit that it was a lot more fun than running checksums and staring at the city until he ran low on energy. Even if the numbers indicating the likelihood of deresolution were rising steadily by the micro.  
  
He released the trigger. The light runner would power down and derez on its own before he made any progress worthy of declaring success. He risked turning around to check the battle behind him, finding it less than encouraging; Tron and Quorra were beset by a swell of gridbugs so massive it had started to rise from the sheer number of bodies composing its bulk. He had seen it before, when the city was young, and they lacked the defenses to keep the creatures out of the more vulnerable sectors. Once the numbers reached a certain point there would be no defending against them; they would simply crash down upon the three programs and devour them whole.  
  
They needed some excessive force.  
  
“Tron,” he called back. “Give me whatever explosives you have.”  
  
Tron’s voice carried over the chaos, “I don’t have any!”  
  
“You always have _something_ ,” Clu argued. “Whatever you’re holding aside, give it to me!”  
  
Silence from the monitor, and then a single grenade came sailing over the top of the light runner to land in Clu’s lap. “Use it wisely,” came Tron’s reply.  
  
Unfortunately, Clu didn’t think that was possible, given the circumstances. “When I tell you to, jump across the river,” he called back to them. “Until then, try not to die.”  
  
Tron waved one of the discs over his head. “No guarantees!”  
  
With one more quick check of his trajectory, Clu kicked the light runner into drive, aiming for the split between the river and the channel. He would only have to worry about extended exposure to the energy—probably—and if his calculations were right, the light runner would land upright in the river, giving him plenty of time to climb out and scramble onto the bank. From there it was all guesswork. He hated guessing.  
  
The light runner shot off the bank and landed, as he had predicted, wheels-down in the river. The inside of the vehicle started flooding quickly, and the second it touched his circuits Clu felt like he could have run to and from the city without stopping. He pulled himself up and over the dashboard, climbing out onto the hood and throwing his whole weight onto the sloped riverbank; the lack of agility in his programming was not helping, and more than once his boots failed to catch on the slick rock. Worse, it was starting to _rain_ , because Flynn had _insisted_ on weather— _refused_ to hear the arguments in favor of a more stable environment. “Come on!” he growled at himself, slamming his palm down on a jutting chunk of rock. He hauled himself up, clawing at the ground until enough of his body had cleared the top. With a grunt he swung one leg up and over, rolling onto his back beside the river. From the corner of his eye he caught a flash of blue; Tron and Quorra were still fighting for their lives, and the swarm was nearing critical numbers. He stood and pulled out the grenade.  
  
“Jump across!” he shouted. He activated the timer on the grenade and tossed it into the front seat of the light runner.  
  
Tron grabbed Quorra’s arm and pulled her from the fight, kicking at a tenacious gridbug that refused to stop attacking their ankles. They had made a sizeable dent in the attacking mass, and their boots crunched over the silvery remains that littered the ground around their feet, slowly melting into the system to be reabsorbed into the collective data pool. He pushed Quorra ahead of himself, prompting her to jump first; she cleared the gap with ease, gracefully landing in a crouch and coming to stand by Clu’s side. Once she was across Tron made to follow her, but at the last second a small cluster of bugs latched on to his leg, weighing him down and sending him into the side of the sloped bank. Most fell off on their own when he slammed into the side of the riverbank, but a few remained, and their weight combined dragged him down.  
  
Clu reached for his disc, remembering too late that Tron had it. Mind racing, he pulled the light stick off Quorra’s leg and, foregoing finesse, swung it at the gridbugs climbing their way up Tron’s back. Quorra had grabbed Tron’s arm, but the weight of the bugs was considerable as they writhed and slashed at his suit, and her hold on him was slipping. All of Tron’s agility wouldn’t help him if the bugs pulled him into the river; the current would grind him against the rocks and derez him almost as fast as the oncoming swarm. Clu gave up on the baton and sat himself on the edge of the bank, holding onto a rock behind him; with one foot braced on the edge he reached down with his other and kicked at the closest gridbug, sending it toppling down into the river. It was quickly swept away, disappearing below the churning water. With some of the weight removed, he moved back from the edge and came to kneel behind Quorra, reaching down with one arm to help pull Tron up and over the edge.  
  
One of the gridbugs that had ridden Tron across the gap came over his shoulder, and Clu reacted; he pulled Quorra’s disc from her back and punched through the bug’s center, sending a shower of voxels into the river. Finally free of the weight, Tron was able to pull himself up, and the three landed together in a heap.  
  
Just in time for the grenade to go off.  
  
The detonation caught the power supply for the light runner, creating a blast that sent all three programs, and a sizeable chunk of the riverbank, hurtling across the landscape. It was a jumble of lights and sounds, all so powerful it completely overloaded Clu’s senses, and pushed him toward a shutdown. As he tumbled he could feel himself hit something—or something hit him, and then everything simply stopped.  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
Tron could feel the damage that had been done to his legs without having to confirm it visually. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up, slowly rising to his feet as everything recalibrated, and his functions leveled themselves to optimal operating condition. He ran a quick internal diagnostic, noting that his injuries were not severe enough to require immediate attention, though they hurt past his usual tolerances. His next thought was Clu. He turned around and around, looking for the other program—or worse, his remains. The ground was littered with debris, most of it made uniform by the steady rain blanketing the region, each pile of shattered rock indistinguishable from the next. Scattered here and there were small puddles of glowing energy, and bright white pieces of what had been the light runner. Flynn wasn’t going to be happy about that.  
  
A flash of white caught his eye, and Tron dashed across the ground toward the source. As he came to an ungraceful stop, sliding over the rock and nearly falling forward onto his hands and knees, he realized the small body belonged to Quorra. She was alive, at least; her circuits slowly pulsed a dull white, flickering blue as she went through a reboot sequence. He brushed some of the broken rock from her body and rolled her onto her back, checking for damage. A quick inspection indicated she would be fine. Once he was sure she was safe, he left her and continued his search for Clu. With each micro that passed he started to fear the worst: that some of the pieces that crunched under his boots as he walked were more than just the broken fragments of the light runner.  
  
A shuffling sound from behind him stopped his hunt; Quorra had sat up, rigid as a baton and staring straight ahead. Her circuits were once more glowing bright, and she whipped her head around, trying to place herself in the devastated surroundings. “Tron?” she called. “Clu?”  
  
“Over here.” Tron waved her over when she turned to him, and then gestured to the crater left behind by the explosion. “Looks like his plan worked. I think.” The massive hole was quickly filling with energy, flowing into their channel and away from the higher slope of the river.  
  
Quorra pushed herself up and carefully picked her way across the ground. “Where is he?” she asked.  
  
Tron shook his head. “I don’t know. We should split up and look for him.”  
  
“What about the gridbugs?”  
  
“Most of them were caught in the explosion, and my guess is the rest were down in that chasm. They don’t retreat,” he added. “And they wouldn’t stop just because we did.” As he spoke he looked at the extra disc in his left hand; Clu’s disc. “There are large pieces of debris all over. Check everywhere. The system needs its administrator.”  
  
Quorra nodded and bounded off across the rocky terrain. Tron watched her go for a moment before looking down at a white lump of data lying haphazardly on the ground next to his feet. He kicked it with the toe of his boot and shook his head as it rolled away.  
  
To facilitate the search, or maybe out of sentimentality, he set a grid overlay across the landscape around the crater, checking off each square as he methodically combed the area for signs of Clu, in the only way the admin would have approved. He reached the far edge of the debris field on one side before a shout from Quorra snapped him out of his pathfinding subroutine, and sent him running to her side. She was shoving at a large chunk of the light runner—it looked like part of the hood, though it was just shy of derezzing at the edges. The weight of it was too much, even for an Iso’s strength, and Tron pushed her aside. He activated his disc and slashed out in an arc, making sure to cut shallow enough to avoid punching through, and hitting Clu. The glossy black material shattered and crumbled, and in its remains lay the administrator, unconscious and showing no signs of a reboot. Tron pulled him out of the rubble and propped him against a nearby rock. “Take this,” he said, handing Clu’s disc to Quorra. He stood and headed for the remains of the original river. “Some of this energy might help.”  
  
He heard a pained groan, and then Clu’s voice: “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” he said. “And I don’t want any, either.”  
  
Tron turned around. “Clu? Your—”  
  
“Your circuits are out,” Quorra finished for him.  
  
Clu nodded. “I need my disc,” he muttered. He looked up to Tron and nodded. There was some kind of mutual appreciation in that gesture, but Tron could only think of how glad he was to note that a quick scan hadn’t picked up any immediate injuries on the other program.  
  
“Oh.” Quorra smiled sheepishly and lifted his disc. “Can you lean forward?”  
  
Before he could answer, Tron knelt down and took Clu’s arm, pulling him forward to give Quorra access to his port. She put an arm around his back and snapped the disc into place, locking it with a turn as he had done for her earlier. Tron couldn’t help but notice that she stayed that way, with her arm around him, even after he had leaned back again.  
  
That was certainly an interesting and unexpected development.  
  
He decided not to push them just yet. “How did this one piece of the light runner make it through the explosion intact?” he asked.  
  
Clu chuckled and patted his chest. “I think my body shielded it, actually.”  
  
“We could always bring it back for Flynn.”  
  
“I think that would bother him more than just losing the light runner. But we should get back to the city,” Clu added. “It isn’t any safer now that we’re done. We’ve just bought ourselves some time.”  
  
Tron stood up, offering a hand. “You won’t even bask in your own heroics.”  
  
“That’s because you’re the only one who thinks blowing up useful vehicles is _heroic_.” He took the hand and hoisted himself up. Tron let him stumble a bit when he finally made it to his feet. Clu ignored it. “Any injuries?” he asked, looking first at Tron, then Quorra.  
  
“A minor structural breech or two, nothing Flynn can’t fix,” Tron replied. He could still walk, and fight, and that was all he really needed.  
  
Quorra shook her head. “I’m fine.”  
  
Clu nodded, and Tron watched his gaze linger a moment on Quorra before he turned toward their destination; a faint glow on the horizon that indicated home.  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
“How long do you think that chasm will hold back the energy?” Quorra asked. They weren’t far from the bridge to beta sector, and the sight of the city towers had perked everyone’s spirits after what felt like an endless trek across the barren, bleak landscape. Quorra’s focus was once more on the safety of the sea, although Clu thought—and maybe hoped—that there might be something else driving her casual banter.  
  
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Without going down there myself I can’t determine its depth.” He turned to her as she rezzed up a light cycle from her baton. “Are you reporting to Radia now?”  
  
“I think I should. Aren’t you coming?”  
  
Tron inserted himself between the two of them—literally. “Do you want us to come?” he asked. Clu could hear the playful tone in his question. Playful, and inappropriate.  
  
She shot him a smile and looked away. “I think it would please Radia if we reported our findings together.”  
  
Tron was not one to be discouraged by a minor setback. He leaned forward, putting one hand on the seat behind her, and the other on her knee. “You think Radia would like that?”  
  
“Tron.”  
  
At the single-word admonishment from Clu, Tron backed off, hands up as though he’d been caught in a crime. He gave Clu a playful tap on the shoulder as he sauntered past to rez up his own bike. With an apologetic glance at Quorra, Clu followed, and a moment later they were off across the bridge, heading back into the city.  
  
The moment his light cycle hit the surface of the bridge, his channels lit up like a light rail; too many emergency pings in the queue to count, all from Radia, who clearly knew something had gone wrong; one lower priority message from Jalen that he deleted without reading; a host of smaller reports that could easily wait; and one from the machine shop supervisor, asking when they planned to return the light runner, and whether or not Tron had destroyed it yet. Clu wasn’t looking forward to explaining that the loss of Flynn’s vehicle had actually been his fault.  
  
Radia was waiting for them, pacing the floor of the Nexus and wringing her hands in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety that stirred a strange feeling of pity in Clu. He didn’t like it. The unwelcome emotional response was instantly relegated to a memory bin he had no intention of accessing ever again.  
  
“Quorra,” Radia said, instantly aware of the other Iso’s presence. “What happened?”  
  
“An energy leak,” Quorra answered, rushing to her side. “We did our best to stop it, but the sea is… I don’t know if it will recover, Radia.”  
  
Though clearly disheartened by the news, Radia recovered quickly at the mention of their efforts to save the sea from further damage. “You did?” she asked, looking past Quorra, to Clu.  
  
Clu suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to turn and hit Tron with a light stick. It was his fault; he couldn’t just let them carry out their mission without turning it into a complicated mess. Flynn was to blame, too, somehow. They were all conspiring to undermine his authority, impede his directive, and if he had any sense written into his code, he would wipe out every single one of them.  
  
“Thank you, Clu.” Radia’s quiet appreciation brought Clu back down to the Grid.  
  
He looked at her and nodded curtly. _I didn’t do it for you_ , he broadcast bitterly to no one.  
  
“I know you didn’t do it for us, of course. You did it for the system.” She separated from Quorra with a gentle pat to the other Iso’s forearm. “Your efforts are greatly appreciated. And yours as well, Tron.” She turned and shared a smile with Tron that Clu was sure communicated something he couldn’t understand. It made him uncomfortable.  
  
An arm dropped down on his shoulder, and Tron pulled him close for a quick shake. “It was a good adventure,” he said jovially.  
  
Clu slipped out from under his grasp and stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and trying to regain some semblance of authority. A difficult feat in that room. “When Flynn returns, I’ll make sure he knows what happened, and see to it the leak is fixed permanently.” His detached stare flickered to Quorra just long enough to see the pleased smile lighting up her face, and something in him burned in a way that he desperately wanted to dismiss, but it nagged at him, turning over inside him and working its way through his code.  
  
He wanted her. The same way Tron had wanted him, only he’d had the sheer arrogance to act on it without any indication that his advances would be received with anything but scorn. Of course, even scorn hadn’t been enough to actually dissuade him.  
  
Quorra was looking back at him. He started and returned his gaze to Radia’s ostentatious headgear. “Is there anything else?” he asked mechanically.  
  
“There is no need to delay your administrative duties any longer,” Radia replied. “We will await Flynn’s return.”  
  
With that, they were dismissed.  
  
  
  
_____________  
  
  
  
  
“He’s not going to question if I say I destroyed the light runner,” Tron said. He could tell Clu wasn’t in the mood to argue, but it was his own damn fault. He thought too much, planned too much, and never seized an opportunity when one was standing there, smiling in his face. Leaning over him with her arm around his back.  
  
“I’m not going to lie about my actions, Tron. I am the administrator of this system. Destroying Flynn’s light runner was necessary to safeguard the Grid.”  
  
Tron arched an eyebrow and cast Clu a sidelong, incredulous look. “You’ve never met Able, have you.”  
  
Clu rolled his eyes. “Flynn is _my_ user.”  
  
“And you have never had to tell the program he put in charge of his vehicles that you destroyed one.”  
  
“I shouldn’t be surprised that you claim that as a skill,” Clu muttered.  
  
They had just reached the garage when Quorra caught up with them. Tron couldn’t help a little grin; he could only imagine the sudden panic wracking Clu from the inside out. “Couldn’t get enough of us?” he asked.  
  
“I thought I should go with you. I insisted on doing something about the energy leak, so it’s only right that I take some of the responsibility for what happened.” She hesitated, looking down at the ground as she walked. “And I thought… maybe we could get a drink, the three of us. To celebrate.”  
  
Tron couldn’t stop himself. “Celebrate what?” he asked, feigning casual disinterest. He could feel Clu’s circuits burning against his arm. The sudden urge gripped him to see just how hot they could get.  
  
“Being alive?” Quorra offered. “We did just fight off a hive of gridbugs. I thought you would appreciate any reason to visit the End of Line.”  
  
“He isn’t allowed,” Clu said quickly. “Flynn’s orders.”  
  
Tron scoffed. “Flynn’s orders based on _your_ nagging. He had no choice but to ban me. And it’s only temporary. Twenty-nine more cycles.”  
  
“Twenty-nine more cycles of relative peace, you mean.”  
  
“You act like that’s the only way I can get overcharged.”  
  
The bickering stopped with an echo that carried around the wide, pristine space of the garage. Tron reached out and rapped his knuckles on the hood of a large, three-wheeled vehicle that Flynn had never gotten around to designating. Or using. He’d been itching to take it for a spin, but he needed a relatively good excuse to sneak it out from under Able’s watchful gaze. That was one program who would have done well on his security team. He didn’t miss anything.  
  
“ _Tron_ ,” came the frustrated shout from another room. “Where’s the light runner?”  
  
“It wasn’t me this time,” Tron called back.  
  
He could hear Able working, putting tools back in place as he finished whatever project he had been in the middle of when they walked in. “Oh yeah?” he continued, clearly unconvinced. “Just who was it?”  
  
Clu looked at Tron before stepping forward. “I destroyed the light runner.”  
  
After a brief, awkward silence, Able’s head appeared in the doorway. “Administrator Clu?” Tron could see him processing the information as he stepped out into the main hangar. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. “So now there’s two of you wrecking my vehicles!”  
  
It was a special treat, watching Clu shrink back like a bit with no answer. Tron leaned back on the hood of a limousine and crossed his arms, waiting for the storm to pass. Able would get over it, he always did. In the meantime he would make Clu question his absolute authority, and Tron would thoroughly enjoy every second of it. Clu needed the occasional reminder that he was made of the same stuff as the rest of them.  
  
Able let out a long sigh and tossed some sort of tool onto a nearby tray. “I’ll have to write up a derez report for Flynn. Every time he asks me if I can make another one. Next time, I’m gonna make you do it.” He was pointing at Tron.  
  
“I’m not programmed for technical work, but I can suggest a few improvements.”  
  
“No additional explosives,” Able snapped. “You find enough ways to destroy my work with what you have.”  
  
Tron pushed off from the limousine and spread his arms, smiling broadly and shrugging. “You should be proud. That light runner held its own against a sizeable host of gridbugs.”  
  
“Gridbugs? What were you three doing out there?”  
  
“It’s a long story.”  
  
“You can tell me over a drink some time. I’m just about finished here, but you can close up the shop for me. I don’t think they’re gonna let you drive off with another one of my machines,” Able said, pointing to Clu and Quorra.  
  
Tron didn’t bother mentioning that neither of them would be able to stop him if he really wanted to. “Not a problem.”  
  
With another shake of his head Able wandered off, disappearing into the other half of the garage. The sound of a door sliding shut concluded their business. Tron glanced at the other two and noticed that Clu was doing his best not to make eye contact with Quorra, and she was staring intently at his hands, clearly just as unwilling to make a move as he was.  
  
So much potential, wasted.  
  
He turned back to the door, reaching down to pull his baton from his leg. “Don’t forget to engage the lock when you leave,” he said. “Not all programs are as upstanding as I am.”  
  
No answer.  
  
“Did you—”  
  
When he turned around, Clu had Quorra’s shoulders held tight in his hands, pinning her against the slanted side of a tank. He was kissing her, but she was kissing back just as hard. She pulled at his suit, her fingers sliding over the black armor as she tilted her head to the side.  
  
Tron watched, too stunned to do more than appreciate just how much he had underestimated the two of them. A soft moan from Quorra was answered by a low, needy sound from Clu. She arched against him, and Tron was instantly aware of his own growing arousal as he watched the two of them press their bodies against one another, circuits flushing violet as they moved. He followed Clu’s hands as they trailed down her arms, across her curves, then sliding up her stomach and cupping her breasts. Quorra pulled her head back, breathing hard as Clu leaned down and started kissing across her jaw and down her neck. She made eye contact with Tron and smiled.  
  
That was really all the invitation he needed. He came up behind Clu and molded the length of his body to the other program’s, shutting his eyes against the feedback from Clu’s circuits. They were smoldering, so hot that Tron could feel their heat on his skin circuits, through his suit. He ran his hands around Clu’s front and between their bodies, feeling the excited spasm in Clu’s abdomen as he reached for his cock. Quorra bucked against his hand—Clearly she had been enjoying herself before he intervened. Tron shrugged apologetically and withdrew his hand. He moved beside them, instead; with one hand he slid his fingers through Quorra’s hair, claiming her mouth for a long, slow kiss. Quorra’s tongue rolled across his, and she extended searching fingers that traced his hip, down his abdomen, and reached between his legs.  
  
The sound of fluttering pixels drew him away from the warm pleasure of Quorra’s mouth, and Tron looked down to find that Clu had derezzed his suit from his stomach to his knees. He continued rolling his hips against Quorra’s, breathing hard as his cock rubbed along the front of her skirt. Tron reached for the hand that Quorra had between his legs and guided her to Clu’s erection. He smiled when Clu let out a shameless groan and thrust into her hand, jerking his hips like he had never been touched. Tron grabbed a fistful of Clu’s hair and dragged him into a quick, dirty kiss that left Clu with his mouth open, panting.  
  
Quorra reached back and tapped her disc; a micro later her suit retracted, and she was left naked, lit up and glowing brightly. Tron wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything like it. Her pale blue circuits were practically dripping with waves of heat. She spread her legs and pulled Clu closer, beckoning him with desperate gasps and gentle sounds that had Tron reaching back to undress himself, too. Clu took the hint and angled himself into place, sliding inside with one long, languid thrust. The sound Quorra made as he pushed into her was raw, needy, and Tron’s cock twitched as he watched Clu pull back and drive into her once more.  
  
“ _More_ ,” Quorra begged. She reached for Tron and opened her mouth to him, nipping at his lower lip and groaning as Clu started to pick up speed. Tron leaned down and flicked his tongue over her breasts, sucking on one nipple as he pinched and rolled the other between his fingertips. His cock was so hard it hurt.  
  
“Tron,” Clu said hoarsely, “let me…”  
  
Tron decided he had waited long enough. He gestured Clu back, watching as he pulled out of Quorra. His cock was slick and hard, and Tron’s circuits burned with the need to taste them both at the same time, but he was stopped by Clu dropping to his knees, swallowing him in one go. He growled something that might have been a curse and twisted his hand in Clu’s hair. A soft touch from Quorra preceded her mouth joining Clu’s, sliding along his shaft when Clu drew back. They licked and sucked at him, and Tron didn’t stop himself from groaning shamelessly as he watched them take him in their mouths one at a time, sharing his cock and savoring every inch of it. Finally he pushed them away—he knew his own tolerances, and what he could handle without losing control. Watching the two of them work him like they had been written for it was not one of those things.  
  
Clu immediately turned to Quorra. He pushed her down on the floor of the garage, spreading her legs and diving between them. Quorra rolled her hips as her hands slid across her own breasts, and she dragged her slender foot over the back of Clu’s armor. He still hadn’t fully undressed himself, but Tron took care of that with a few taps to his disc. He knelt down behind Clu and slowly slid his cock along the cleft of his ass, teasing, demanding a reaction. Clu keened and pushed back, but Tron moved away with him.  
  
“Quorra, I’m going to show you a side of the system administrator that no one _ever_ gets to see.” He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Clu’s erection, holding him tight and stroking slowly at first, then faster, and harder, until Clu was rocking back and forth, mewling in need. He kept his hands tight on Quorra’s hips, and she bucked each time Clu tensed, driving his tongue harder against her sensitive clit. “Beg me,” Tron ordered. He let go of his own cock, leaving it hard and twitching against Clu’s ass. His hand slid across Clu’s back until he reached his neck. With his fingers curled into claws he dragged them down, over the bright gold circuits on Clu’s back, each one sparking lavender in the wake of his touch. Clu gasped and cried out, making Quorra mirror his actions as he swept his tongue up the length of her wet folds.  
  
“ _Beg me_ ,” Tron repeated. He accentuated the command with a roll of his hips. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”  
  
Clu made a choked sound and shook his head.  
  
“I think we’re past worrying that Quorra will find out how much you _love_ to be touched,” Tron said, bending down and speaking the last word against Clu’s circuits. He licked a trail of gold that ran the length of his back, tasting heat and energy. “Come on.”  
  
Clu shook his head again, but Tron could sense his resolve weakening. If there was only one thing Clu lacked, it was the will to refuse him. He took himself in hand once more and dragged the head of his cock over Clu’s sensitive skin. Finally, a soft, barely audible “ _Please_.”  
  
“Again.”  
  
“ _Please_ , Tron,” Clu whimpered. His breath was heavy and fast between Quorra’s legs. “ _I need you_ ,” he begged, lifting his hips and spreading his legs. _That_ was a sight Tron would tire of seeing. Hearing such timid words from Clu made him burn to bury himself as far as he could go.  
  
He was going to have to be patient, though. “Not yet,” he soothed. He brought both hands up and pushed Clu forward. “Take care of Quorra, first.”  
  
Clu didn’t need to be told twice. He licked and kissed his way up Quorra’s stomach, up and across her breasts, flicking his tongue over each nipple and sucking gently, drawing wanton sounds from her that filled the garage. Finally he settled on top of her, thrusting forward with his face buried in the corner of her neck. With one hand he braced himself, and with the other he traced her circuits, digging his fingers into her skin every time he pushed deeper inside.  
  
Quorra had one hand tight around his shoulder, and the other flat on top of his as he explored the guidelines of her body. “Clu, _harder_ ,” she pleaded.  
  
Tron watched with great pleasure as Clu obliged. His hips rolled forward, taking her with more and more force, rocking them both in place on the garage floor. “You wanted her the nano you saw her, didn’t you?” Tron asked. He watched them fuck and idly stroked himself. “Did you want him, Quorra?”  
  
Quorra nodded, mouthing a silent “ _Ah!_ ” as Clu jerked his hips hard. “Yes— _yes!_ ” she gasped.  
  
That was what he wanted to hear. Tron started to ask another question, to prompt them both for more, but Clu interrupted him. “So beautiful, Quorra,” he muttered against the soft skin of her neck. “So perfect.” He reached down and lifted one of her legs, spreading his own to thrust deeper. Quorra cried out and her hips stuttered against the floor.  
  
That was all Tron’s patience could take. He knelt behind Clu and pressed the head of his cock to his ass, holding him still with one hand as he guided himself in with the other. When he was deep enough, he let go and pulled Clu’s hips back hard, hissing out a long “ _Yes_ ” between his teeth. Clu was always so hot, so very tight and accommodating as Tron buried himself to the base. He pulled back again and gave him one powerful thrust, and the motion carried down to Quorra, who gasped as Clu was pushed deeper. Tron leaned down with his cheek flat on Clu’s back, grunting as he held his hips and thrust hard, fast, giving Clu no chance to set his own rhythm. He moved all three of their bodies to his own pace, listening to the thrum of Clu’s circuits in his ear, and the raw, needy sounds as they all gave up on words and just _fucked_.  
  
When Clu came, Tron could feel him tighten around his cock. He was still holding himself up with one arm, keeping the bulk of his and Tron’s weight off Quorra. His arm shook and his body shuddered, but Tron refused to relent. He kept thrusting, driving into him over and over. When he was finished Clu collapsed atop Quorra, and she stroked his hair as Tron worked steadily toward his own climax. He put both palms flat on the ground and moved his hips quickly, jerking hard against Clu’s body and growling with each thrust. All the while Quorra watched him, her blue eyes locked on his. He came staring right back as he spent himself inside Clu, and his own physical limits forced him to stop. After a moment to collect himself he pulled out slowly, giving Clu’s back a kiss as he leaned up and sat back on his heels, thoroughly exhausted in every way.  
  
Slowly, and with great effort, Clu drew himself up and out of Quorra, rolling to the side on the floor. She followed shortly after that, sitting up with her legs crossed.  
  
“Well,” Tron said, taking a deep breath. “Add that to the list of things I’ve done in this garage that would give Able a glitch.”  
  
Clu lifted his other hand and let it fall down on the silver tile. “I don’t know…” he began, “how you always get exactly what you want.”  
  
“It was what you wanted, too. Remember?”  
  
He saw Clu nod in agreement. Quorra bent down and placed a quick kiss on Clu’s lips before pushing herself to her feet. “I think we agreed it’s what everyone wanted,” she said. “How long are you two going to need to recover? I still want to get that drink.”  
  
Tron looked up. She had her hands on her hips, naked and practically glowing from head to toe, and still undeniably beautiful, despite the fan of mussed hair on the back of her head and a few bright marks left by strong hands on her hips. He turned and looked down at Clu, still prone on the floor. “I think we’re gonna need some time.”  
  
Clu propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Quorra. He shook his head. “Never ask again why you’re not allowed in the games.”


End file.
